The Unlikely Lady (Playful Brides #3)(86)

Isabella laughed again, a short bark this time. “I refuse to allow the father of my baby not to own up to his responsibilities.”

“I will own up to them!”

Everyone’s head swiveled to the left. Boris came marching in. Isabella’s face was a study in shock. “Boris, no!”

“Yes,” Boris replied. “I’ve asked you to marry me half a dozen times and you’ve refused. But I won’t allow you to ruin another man’s life over a mistake we made together.”

“Shut up, you fool. You don’t know what you are saying.” Isabella’s voice was high and strained. Her face was quickly turning a mottled shade of red.

“I know exactly what I’m saying and it’s high time I spoke up.” Boris faced Garrett and Jane. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done, Mr. Upton. Isabella told me she saw the two of you in the upstairs drawing room the night of the masquerade. She asked me to cut the strap on Miss Lowndes’s saddle.”

Jane shook her head. “I knew it.”

Boris nodded guiltily but kept talking. “She also overheard you planning to meet the night of the wedding. She told me to follow you to the wine cellar, Mr. Upton, and to ensure you didn’t make it back to your room.”

Garrett glared at Isabella.

“Shut up, you imbecile!” Isabella hissed.

Boris turned back toward Isabella. “I’m sorry to have done those things. I did them because I loved you, and I thought you loved me. But now I must make things right.” He walked up to Garrett and handed him something.

Garrett clutched the gold pocket watch in his fist.

“I only took it so you’d think one of the Morelands’ servants had done it,” Boris said. “I’m sorry.”

The vicar stepped forward. “Are you certain, young man? You swear you are the father of this woman’s unborn baby?”

“Yes, Reverend. I must confess and I have no doubts.”

Isabella tore at her hair and ran shrieking from the church. Boris quickly followed her.

“Best of luck with that one,” Lucy called after him.

The vicar cleared his throat and nodded toward Garrett. “Well, then, now that that unpleasant business is settled. Do you wish to proceed?”

“Just one more moment, Reverend.” Garrett turned back to Jane.

“Jane,” Garrett whispered, this time swallowing the even larger lump in his throat. She’d done all this for him, and she loved him. “Are you sure? Are you certain this is what you want?”

She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You were right about me, Garrett. I’ve been hiding behind books all my life. It’s high time I became brave enough to take a chance in the real world, in a real story, my own story. I want my happy ending to be with you.”

Garrett cupped her cheeks and kissed her. The small crowd behind them cheered. “By all means, my love, let’s get married.”





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Garrett carried her over the threshold of his town house. It was a silly, sentimental thing to do, and Jane adored it. She’d worn her mother’s wedding gown, which had made her mother’s eyes moist with tears, but Jane was in a hurry to get the uncomfortable thing off … for more than one reason.

They’d spent the remainder of the morning and all the afternoon celebrating with their friends at Derek’s town house, but now they were home. Alone.

She’d been looking forward to this all day. The butterflies had winged in her middle since she’d first seen Garrett at the church. When he set her down in the marble foyer of his home and tenderly kissed her, her traitorous legs began shaking again.

“I sent a note. The servants have all been dismissed for the evening,” he whispered in her ear.

“That’s … nice.” Her voice trembled. Apparently the servants had taken the dogs with them.

Garrett rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone and tipped up her chin. “Don’t be nervous, Jane.”

“I don’t want to be. Truly, I don’t.”

He nuzzled her ear, and Jane closed her eyes.

“Come upstairs with me,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she breathed. Oh, yes. How she wanted to make love to this man.

He led her by the hand to his bedchamber. The room was sparse and masculine and very Upton. Two candles in a silver brace flickered atop the mantelpiece, casting the room in a shadowy glow. A large bed against the back wall was covered in silken, emerald sheets. A dark cherrywood wardrobe, a matching writing desk, a portrait of a black-and-white spaniel on the wall.

“That’s not Dogberry or Verges, is it?” Jane asked.

“No, that’s Henry. I had him when I was a boy. I miss him still.”

An unexpected rush of tears stung the backs of Jane’s eyes. This was why she loved him. On the outside he was witty and carefree, but on the inside he cared … deeply, about everyone and everything in his world.

Jane kicked off her white satin slippers and rolled off both stockings before whirling around. “Unbutton me.”

He chuckled. “Not the most romantic way to begin.”

“No, it’s not that,” she answered with a laugh. “This gown is terribly uncomfortable.”

“I’m happy to comply,” he said softly, his lips moving to the back of her neck. Jane felt the tug of his fingers against the long row of buttons along her back, but all she could concentrate on was his mouth on the soft spot beneath her ear. She tilted her head to the side.